I Accidentally Summoned a Demon and Named Him Fred

Jealousy Has a Sharp Flavor

Lunch couldn't be more awkward if it tried.

Jenna talked. Sammy talked.

I...poked at my food and pretended to be part of the conversation.

Whenever Jenna tried to loop me in, Sammy would steer things toward something I had no clue about—advanced spirit-guide theory, Level A gossip, teachers I'd never met.

Petty. All of it. Agonizingly, suffocatingly petty.

This could've been avoided.

Why did I say anything in the first place? I could've ignored them. I could've ignored him.

"The gremlin survived," Fred imitated in a low chuckle in the back of my mind. "You have a short complex or something, or are you really that easily triggered?"

Shut up.

I'm not that...short.

Okay, so I have issues with my height. And maybe a personal vendetta against people who are unnaturally tall.

I think it's completely normal to hate tall people.

"Are you sure this isn't stemming from unresolved trauma from that one kid who bullied you in middle school?" Fred asked, his tone too casual.

My body went cold.

How do you know about that?

"Your memories are my memories," he said simply, as if he wasn't rifling through the most private moments of my entire existence.

Before I could snap back, Sammy's voice cut through my thoughts.

"You should head to the library, don't you think?" she stated in the form of a question, but really, I knew she wanted to get rid of me.

I'd been keeping my distance from Sammy. My skin prickled like thorns whenever she was near.

The energy between us was sharp and restless, impossible to describe. Fred soaked it up, relishing it like a cat drunk on catnip.

"I think it's a little too late," I shrugged, forcing casual. "I'll just try to pick it up again tomorrow."

"She's delicious."

...Excuse me?

"Jealousy," Fred purred. "It has a sharp flavor."

...That's disturbing.

"You're going to need the book to channel your spirit guide," Sammy said, oblivious to the demon commentary in my head. "This is Professor Stancamp's class. Unless you can summon your spirit guide without an incantation—"

Of course she'd assume I couldn't.

"Trust me, Mikaela is going to be fine," Jenna cut in. "And you of all people should know that Stancamp hates tardiness above all else."

Sammy bit her lower lip hard, swallowing whatever else she wanted to say.

"If we need the book, she can share it with one of us," Jenna added, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

It wasn't simple.

"Of course," Sammy said, but the forced smile on her face said the exact opposite.

Walking into Stancamp's classroom felt like stepping into a different world.

Unlike Ms. Helen's chaotic energy, this room was dead silent. Every student sat with their book open, eyes locked on dense pages of symbols and words in a language I couldn't even pretend to recognize.